


Daymares

by insufferableThespian



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Vague mention of the Signless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insufferableThespian/pseuds/insufferableThespian





	

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stay up long past the sunrise, lurking in the wee hours of the daylight. Fingers mindlessly tugging at nylon strings, abstract notes floating around the echoey apartment, bouncing off of walls and shelves lined with clutter. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t addicted to the slow set of the blistering sun, watching from behind glass tinted purple. Spending hours awake when you should be asleep, even if it meant a hard core addiction to caffeine.

(You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t spent far too many daylight hours with your pants cast aside, and an ominous pool of glossy violet underneath your legs.)

That thought makes you shrivel into your plush couch, an overwhelming feeling of self pity washing over your body. You’d crick your neck towards the window, but you cannot will yourself to peel your eyes off the video-grub, blasting garbage at full volume. You have absolutely no idea what you are watching, some soap opera sap-story that only airs when no one in their right mind is awake. You can feel your pan turn to mush as the mind-numbing video waves seep into your eyes. In retrospect, you really should have just gone to bed. You were fully aware of the monotonous back-to-back episodes of this medical-hive drama playing in loops that go on forever.

In a last-age attempt to save yourself, you reach for your husktop, slowly opening it up as to not blind yourself with the laser beam grade light shooting out of the screen. You swear it will blind you one day, with how many hours you’ve spent watching shitty porno’s at one pm with all your lights out.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at all shocked to see little mister Vantas online at three in the afternoon.

You stared at it for a good four minutes, the little ‘active’ icon looking you right in the face. Maybe he left his husktop open after he went to rest? You knew he would never be up at this hour. You were willing to admit that the amount you knew about his schedule was extremely creepy, that you were well aware his bedtime was strictly nine am; It had fucked you over many times before.

You debated shooting him a quick text, something casual and simple. Something like, “hey chief, vwhats shakin?” or “vwhats cookin’ in kan-tovwn?” but you knew he would either find your questions ‘invasive’ or ‘privacy infiltrating’ or whatever other nonsense he would tell you that was synonymous to the last. An audible sigh filled the room as you pondered whether or not to just forget about the whole thing and go to sleep before the moons rose.

But damn, were you curious as to what he was doing up so late.

You had to physically shake your head to keep it from travelling too deep into thought, about just what was Kankri up to so late. Him being awake was out of character in itself, his activity probably was too. A twitch found its way into your bulge.

A shower suddenly became a good distraction.

You could feel your eyelids getting heavier as the sun grew higher in the sky, cleaning the nutrition block counters which weren’t even dirty. Glancing at the glowing digits imprinted on the oven, you yawned at the sight of ’6:36 pm’. You dumped the wash cloth onto the ground, planning on cleaning up the soapy mess in the evening. Trudging into the communal block to grab your laptop, you realize Kankri still hadn’t gone offline.

No. Instead, there was now a notification waiting, red text stark against the white screen.

“D9 y9u mind c9ming 9ver, if y9u are still awake?”

Of course you don’t mind, you think, as you take the stairs two at a time down to the level where his hive was. In hindsight, rushing down the marble stairs as fast as you could, wearing nothing but a loose tank-top and a pair of sweats, nearly tripping over your socked feet was probably not the best idea. You looked desperate. Which, to be perfectly frank, was true. However you didn’t want to look like you had been starved of social attention for weeks due to your lack of friends. God, that thought was so pathetic you almost felt red pity for yourself. Which was probably the closest to a quadrant you’d ever get, if you were going to be honest with yourself.

You had to physically stop yourself from knocking on the door with the same eagerness as a wiggler on Twelfth Perigee. He would have thought you were a total creep, apparating behind his door in under two seconds.

You cringe at the accurate use of ‘apparating’, really wishing you could rid your pan of all things magic and Harry Potter.

You hear soft footsteps coming from the other side of the door, probably caused by what sounds like slippers. You wonder what they look like. What if they were shaped like adorable fluffy meowbeasts? You doubt your pusher could take the sight of something that adorable, on an already adorable frame. You really shouldn’t be calling your best and only friend adorable.

His head appears behind the oak door as it slowly swings open. Your suspicion of slippers has been confirmed, but you are slightly disappointed to find they are basic and black. Your attention, however, is more focused on the red trails on Kankri’s cheeks that leave no need to wonder why he asked you over.

Half an hour and two cups of tea later, you’re both sitting in his pile, in the corner of his respite block. Neither of you have said a word this whole exchange, at it’s beginning to eat a hole through you. Did Porrim say something? Or Meenah? Just the thought makes your blood boil lightly at your temples. You’d kick their collective, sexy asses if they did. Sure, they may be 10 out of 10s, and sure, you may wish very much to sleep with them at least once, but you would still destroy your chances of that ever happening if it meant protecting your only friend.

The silence felt suffocating, watching him sip the tan coloured tea as he stared off at nothing. The good thing was at least by now he had stopped his unexplained crying, but that still left more questions than answers. You opened your mouth, a brave act to brake the tension, but it seemed Kankri already had the same idea.

“I h-had always thought you couldn’t f-feel real pain in daymares. Th-they are just… scenarios created by the pan to frighten you as you sleep…” His voice quivered, right hand rubbing at left wrist. Blank eyes fixated on a nameless point of space in the room. There was no clear indication of any certain object being examined, as far as you could decipher. He turned to you, face puffy once more, almost begging to be caressed gently, “It h-hurt so much… The metal it… it b-burned so badly. I can still feel it, stinging my skin…” He sniffled, translucent red staining his cheeks in trails. He looked to lost, so hurt and confused. It took everything within you to not surround him in a warm embrace that would no doubt bring you scolding about personal space and asking for consent. “I s-screamed and screamed b-but… You… Weren’t there…” The pain in your chest tightens, like the time you misfired the Crosshairs and accidentally shot your own leg as a kid.

The small sobbing sounds filling the room were far too much to bear, as you disregarded what trouble you could be in later in favour of holding the smaller troll close, gently running your slender fingers through his slime-dampened hair.

“You w-weren’t there…”

“Shhh,” you cooed, “Kanny, it’s okay. I’m here nowv, I’m not leavwin’” That you meant. Not until he kicked you out. Not until he forcibly pushed you out his door, yelling about how you had ‘over stayed your welcome’. Not until you knew he felt safe again.


End file.
